The Name Game
by caffinate-me
Summary: What's in a name? Somewhere along the way he had stopped calling her Beckett and started calling her Kate. My take on Kate's thoughts and actions in Rise. MAJOR spoilers for Rise and the dedication in Heat Rises.


The Name Game

Disclaimer: Castle and all of its characters are owned by ABC and Andrew W. Marlowe. I am just borrowing them for a bit.

A/N: There are MAJOR spoilers in this for Rise and the dedication in Heat Rises, so if you haven't seen the episode or if you don't want to know who the book is dedicated too then don't read this yet. If you already know or don't care then read away!

As always I thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy this little ficlet. Let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><span>The Name Game<span>

'_What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'_

Kate Beckett wasn't one to wax poetic or philosophic, but to her it did make a difference. Anytime he called her Kate her heart leapt a little bit in her chest— her heart, her still beating heart. Her still beating heart that had been shattered both literally and figuratively. She had lied. In the hospital she had looked him straight in the eye and lied to him, because it had been too much. She remembered the feeling of him holding her, of her shattered heart jumping as little as it could with a bullet lodged snugly beside it when he had said her name- Kate over and over.

She remembered hearing him say the words, the three little words she had practically begged him to say only days before. But in those days she had not been as broken. Her mother had been dead, but she had not been betrayed by Montgomery or by him so she had been less broken. At that point her mentor had been alive and Castle hadn't held her so tight against that car that she couldn't try to save him. Lying on the ground broken he had finally said them, and she had smiled, she remembered smiling but it was a smile of irony not of happiness. How could she be happy when he could only tell her he loved her when she was so broken?

When she awoke in the hospital his was not the first face she saw. She saw her father, sitting in the straight back chair. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, his hair was messy and greasy and he was still wearing the suit she had picked out for him to wear to the funeral. He looked as broken as she felt. When the door opened she expected him to come waltzing through with two steaming cups of coffee like always, but instead Josh walked in.

Josh. She had told him not to come to the funeral. It was something she had to do alone. She had let him in after they caught Lockwood, after the freezer and he had given up Haiti for her. She had let him in and told him about her mother. He had nodded and held her why she cried but she could tell he didn't really understand. How could he? He wanted to know why she couldn't let it go, let herself be whole for once. He wanted to stitch up the wounds that had been ripped open in her, but there was only one thing that could mend these wounds and that was putting the case to rest. The case which was a complete mess of conspiracies, mazes, betrayals and dead ends. He wanted to fix her, but he couldn't so she had told him to stay at work and to stay away from the graveyard. He had been disappointed.

"He'll be there with you won't he?" He had said.

"He's my partner."

"He is the one that started this."

"No, he's the one that has my back."

"I have your back, Kate."

It was an argument that they had had before and Kate closed her eyes, as she held the phone to her ear, standing in her cold bedroom half dressed in her dress uniform. Her heart didn't jump when he called her Kate.

Now, Josh sat beside her and told her how he had stitched up her heart, at least part of it. He was proud, but she couldn't tell if he was proud he had done the surgery or that he had finally gotten close to her heart, to healing her. He joked with her about the hospital bracelet. He had been sweet, trying to get her mind off of the fact that she had just been shot. Then he walked in.

He looked like a scared little kid walking into the recovery unit and she couldn't help the smile that crossed her face.

"Castle."

The name, just her saying his name made him smile.

He looked nervous standing there with a beautiful bouquet of flowers that probably cost more than most people made in a week. He never did anything half way for her. He was making a joke about the flowers, something about a flower shop but she hadn't been paying attention.

She couldn't tell him. He couldn't know that she had heard him. She was still too broken to say those words back to him and if she ignored it, acted like it had never happened then it would be easier. That way he had an out. She had an out. If she didn't remember it then she could say it when she was ready and didn't have to hurt him right now by saying she wasn't.

"Some things are better left forgotten."

The words came out much harsher than she had intended and in that moment she knew that he knew. He knew she was lying. She had heard him and he knew it, but he didn't call her out. He looked hurt, so hurt, like she had just shot him in the heart but she couldn't do it. She couldn't say it back, not yet.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow." He was hurt, he was wounded but he wasn't going away. She needed him to go away, to figure things out. Everything was so messed up she needed to figure it out. Without him. He had almost died for her. She couldn't risk losing him too.

"Could we not? I need some time."

"How much time?"

"I'll call you."

As he walked out of the room she closed her eyes and a single tear fell down her cheek. She wasn't going to call him. She had to fix herself on her own this time.

* * *

><p>Three months of alone and only one thing was clear. She couldn't do this alone. The cabin had been too quiet and in the quiet she heard too much. There had been crickets and squirrels and deer but most importantly there had been her thoughts. She had run. She wasn't proud of it. She had told her father that the quiet would help her recover, she had told Josh goodbye, she had told Castle… she had told Castle nothing. Maybe he would forget if she ignored him. If you can't see it, then it's not there, right? If she hadn't heard then he had never said it and the feeling would just go away. He would move on, start dating someone else, get a new muse and forget that Kate Beckett ever existed. There was only one problem; she couldn't forget him.<p>

Her father had stood by her the whole time, helping her walk, dressing her wounds prompting her to talk, but she didn't want to talk. He had taken her fishing and gone on walks in the woods. He had asked her to walk away when she packed up her bags to go back to the city. He had asked her to quit. But she couldn't quit and she couldn't do it alone. She thought going back to the 12th would be enough. She would have Ryan and Esposito and they would help her, they would have her back without too many questions.

Instead all they had were questions. Why was she back? Why hadn't Castle told her? What did she mean that she hadn't talked to him?

She was honestly surprised when they had told her that Castle had been working with them. She had pushed him away so he would forget and instead he had pushed back. She had thought Ryan and Esposito would be enough to fill the void, to make her not alone, but as she sat at her cold desk sans steaming cup of coffee staring at her little elephants and the empty tattered chair she knew it wouldn't be enough.

He had been easy enough to track down. _Heat Rises _had just come out. She had yet to pick up a copy but she had seen the reviews in the paper, it had set records for presales online. Apparently, the inspiration getting gunned down was great for sales. There had been a list of book signings next to the review.

He looked miserable. To all of the twittering women in line he probably looked like the picture of health, wealth and fame, but she knew better. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and his smile never reached his eyes, even was he was confronted with beautiful doting women. As the line got shorter and shorter she noticed that he has stopped glancing up, he wasn't even looking at his fans anymore, instead his attention was focused on the book cover. On Nikki Heat. On her.

"Whom should I make it out too?"

The question was generic, monotone. Mundane.

The possible answers flittered through her brain. Nikki Heat, Detective, Beckett, KB, Katherine, Kate. She could give him that. She couldn't say that she loved him or acknowledge that he loved her, but she could give him more than just Beckett. She could give him Kate.

"Kate, you can make it out to Kate."

He looked up at her and she saw something flicker in his eyes. Anger. He was angry with her. He looked back at the book and scribbled something and handed it back to her without a word, without a smile.

'To Kate, thanks for being a fan."

Generic. Mundane.A silent dismissal from his life.

She walked out of the line and out the doors. She couldn't leave, not yet. She needed the file and, like it or not, she needed him. She flipped through the book while she waited and paused at the dedication feeling her throat swell and her heart tighten as she read the words.

"To Roy Montgomery…"

She couldn't be jealous. She couldn't be hurt that he had left her out of the dedication. She had pushed him away and Roy had died. He deserved to be remembered. She couldn't be jealous of it. It wasn't fair.

He was angry for her not calling, he was angry that she had pushed him away but she could fix that.

"I watched you die in that ambulance… do you know what that's like? Watching the life drain out of someone you lo… someone you care about?"

He had almost said it again and her heart leapt in her chest, her still beating heart. But he didn't get it, he didn't understand. She wanted to forget, she had been trying to forget it all, but she had failed. As hard as she tried she hadn't forgotten him. She couldn't forget those words that he has whispered and she couldn't forget that she felt the same way. Mostly, she couldn't forget that she was still broken and that he deserved better. He deserved her whole. She wanted to give him everything and she couldn't. Not yet.

He deserved to know why. So she told him.

She told him and he understood. He understood that she wanted this just as much as he did but she wasn't ready yet. She gave him more than she ever had before. She told him about what she was feeling. She couldn't let the wall down but she gave him a small window to see inside. She let him see past Beckett; she let him see Kate.

He said he was still mad but she knew his anger was dissipating when he went along with her teasing about Gates. A couple of days later when he handed her a steaming cup of coffee, just the way she liked it, she knew that they were almost back to normal.

Then something changed. She didn't notice it at first even though she should have. It should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Their banter had slowly returned over the Sonya Gilbert case and she found herself smiling more than she had in months, more than she had in years. The joke and comments she hadn't let herself laugh at before she let herself find funny. She began to let him in. And then she noticed it. He was calling her Kate. Maybe he had said Beckett once or twice, but in the warehouse as he had her back, telling her that she was okay, that she could do this he called her Kate. When he bid her goodnight, he had said Kate. When he answered the phone… he called her Kate.

'_What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'_

But it made so much of a difference. One little name shouldn't change anything but it did. Beckett was work. Beckett was the woman who proved herself to Gates; that got into a pissing contest with her new captain. Beckett was strong. Beckett was back but Kate? Kate was someone else. Kate was strong too, but Kate was still broken and hearing Castle say that name was beginning to make her heal. As she sat crying and scared in the psychiatrist's office, curled as small as she could into a chair she couldn't help but think that she had made a mistake. Maybe, it was better that she knew.

She couldn't let him in all the way yet. She couldn't say those three words back to him, but knowing that he loved her; that he was willing to wait made it easier to be Kate. It made it easier to let herself heal. And maybe, just maybe, if she got comfortable enough with Kate she could let Rick in too.


End file.
